Forest Maiden of Space and Time
by Dovahsdottir
Summary: A short story about Root and Company visiting an old dovah.


The party of four looked up into the blinding sun as they stepped through whirling portal of light. Crystalline snowflakes created near whiteout conditions, and the wind was biting and cold. Squinting, Geralt strained to see, and his golden eyes widened at what he beheld. Perched above them, wings folded over white scales, with a wedge shaped head crowned with horns, was a dragon. It peered at them, it's breath coming in clouds, but it remained still and silent. Root, Regis and Vernon stood behind the Witcher, who slowly drew his silver blade.

"Stay your weapon, warrior." rumbled the dragon in a deep, gravelly voice older than the bones of the Morhen mountains. "I would speak with you."

"I'm not in the habit of speaking to monsters." the White Wolf replied. "But you're not the first dragon to desire it. Make it quick."

"Root, where are we?" Regis asked, turning to their wife. "Where did that gate take us?"

"I don't know." she replied. "I'm...I'm not sure how to control these abilities yet."

"Can we get back?" Vernon asked over the wind.

"Ahh, you." the dragon said, pointing to the brown haired forest maiden. "You created the link between the Time Wound and your world. Come forth."

Geralt stood close to her, wrapping a heavy wolf skin cloak about her shoulders.

"Yes, I sense it now. You are not the Time Mage, Caranthir. No. And yet...yes. I sense his power in you. How came you by this? No easy feat I assume?"

"Why should we tell you anything?" she replied in a guarded fashion.

The dragon seemed to smile. "A fair question. However, this is my stromah; my mountain. You stand at the Throat of the World, where I've made my home for thousands of years, young one. I think the elder is entitled to have his question answered."

Root nodded and glanced to Geralt. "I defeated the Time Mage and absorbed his power to open gates between worlds and times. We come from Kaer Morhen. A keep in the Kaedweni mountains. What is this throat of the world? Is that in Nilfgaard?"

"Hmmm, defeated him, eh? Then you are no ordinary joor; mortal. No. If you can manipulate Time, then perhaps Akatosh has sent you here for a reason."

"We are here for our own reasons." Geralt growled. "No lord, no gods, no one is responsible for our coming but us."

"Perhaps you are meant to think that." the dragon said, seeming to chuckle. "Or perhaps I am an old dovah, dragon, with too much time on his...hands. I do not know of this Nilfgaard you speak of. You are in Tazukan, Tamriel, Dawn's Beauty as the Mer call it. This mountain lies in what the Men call Skyrim. It would seem you've opened a gate to this world using Caranthir's power and arrived here because the Time Wound provides an easy access between your world, this world and the world of the aen elle. I understand the Time Mage was from that realm, yes?"

"He was." Root said, beginning to shiver. "Can we get back home by going through this...this wound?"

"I would imagine that is so." the dragon said with a nod. "The Time Wound was ripped open by the reading of the kell, an Elder Scroll, and has remained so for thousands of years. I do not foresee it closing anytime soon. At least not until Alduin returns. But I do not know when that will be. It may be wise for you to leave while you can."

"Root? Can you open the way?" Vernon Roche asked, rubbing his hands.

"Yes, I think this has been a much larger test of your powers than we imagined. Let's us return." Regis said.

"Wait. How did you know Caranthir?" Root asked, looking up at the dragon.

"He would come to visit me here at times. We would speak about magic, time, worlds and other subjects. The long-lived elf, Mer as we call them here, could debate this old dovah and win. No easy task I assure you. He was a good friend."

Root's face seemed to fall.

"Do not be saddened, quenarin; vanquisher. I know what his people, the aen elle, did. What this Wild Hunt would do when they came here. Slavery is no easy yoke to bear for those who feel its touch. I know this better than many. Alas, I'd made many mistakes in my youth. He was my friend, but I would not interfere with his hunting of the Men and Mer of this land. Twas not my role to play. It would seem that was your role."

"Who are you?" Regis asked.

"I am called Paarthanax."

"Root?" Vernon said.

The woman nodded, closed her eyes and opened her hands, calling on the powers of the Time Mage once again, and the whirling gate of light opened within the shimmering slit that the dovah Paarthanax called the Time Wound.

"You are like a living Elder Scroll, Vanquisher Root." the dragon said solemnly. "Wield your power carefully. All of Time, nay Akatosh himself, shudders before you. Farewell."

The group stepped into the gate, with Geralt coming last, his watchful eyes always on the dragon. And there was Vesemir, Eskel and Lambert. They were back in the keep of Kaer Morhen, and the gate closed behind them. Root looked at them all.

"Master Vesemir? Have you ever heard of Skyrim?"

"No. Is that somewhere in Nilfgaard?" ...


End file.
